


The Boy Who Ran With Wolves

by Goldstone_Wolf



Series: BTHB--MultiFandom [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Kidnapped Stiles, Knives, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mild Sterek, Probably some other stuff I'm missing, Weapons, Whump, but only major in the sense of it being Stiles, kidnappings, tws for:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldstone_Wolf/pseuds/Goldstone_Wolf
Summary: This was not how Stiles expected to spend his holiday, but sometimes what we want isn’t what we get.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: BTHB--MultiFandom [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760653
Comments: 2
Kudos: 112





	The Boy Who Ran With Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> TWs will likely be in tags.   
> This is my attempt to avoid worsening a mental breakdown/panic attack/anxiety attack/whatever the hell I just had was. Long story short, what started as me being frustrated over being treating like I’m twelve again spiralled into me thinking about how literally everyone seems to leave because I’m weird and then my relationship with my parents since I was outed in freshman year.   
> With that, let’s just jump into the story, okay?

“You’re going to tell me everything, little birdie. Do you understand?”

Stiles shot a look at the person who was stalking in front of him. Sure, they may have had him tied to a chair. Sure, they may have forced a rope into his mouth to prevent him from talking or screaming. Sure, they had a wicked knife in their hand, with a serrated blade that would hurt like hell to stab with, and they may have had a sadistic gleam in their eye that meant they were begging him to mouth off, but he wasn’t scared of them. He had them exactly where he wanted them to be.

Okay, that was a lie.

He was terrified, but they didn’t need to know that. Besides, it wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before. Any moment now, someone—Derek or Malia or Lydia or Scott or some lovable idiot from Scott’s ever-growing Pack—would come barging in the doors of the warehouse he was in with fangs bared and claws at the ready. Any moment now…right?

Right?

The person in front of him decided they’d had enough and smacked him in the side of the head with the butt of their knife. “Come on, kid. You could at least _look_ at me while I’m talking to you.” They snarled, and Stiles shot them another look. “Now, you’re going to tell me everything.”

_You’ve said that already. What are you, an NPC from the lamest game in history?_ If it weren’t for the rope rubbing the edges of his mouth raw, Stiles would have said it. He really would have. Sure, it’d probably get him hit. But it would be one hell of a joke. And he’d have a good time saying it.

Sure, being hurt wasn’t fun, but he wasn’t in it for the fun times.

He ran with wolves.

And yeah, maybe it was around Christmas. Maybe he should have been home with his dad and his boyfriend, trying to figure out how the heck they were going to have Scott freaking McCall’s _entire Pack_ over for dinner. Maybe he should have been “spotting” Derek (aka looking at his back end) while he helped his dad hang up lights on their roof for the kids across the street, or when he helped the neighbours in their area do the same. Maybe he should have been trying out some new cookie recipes with Lydia. Maybe he should have been trying to get Theo and Malia to try some, to show them what they’d both been missing for years. And maybe he should have been trying to figure out what the heck the “chimera of _Death_ ” would need or want when he spent so long having to manipulate things from people (they were working on that. It had taken time, just like Malia, but they were making progress).

And maybe he was more than a little pissed off that he was currently caught by someone _when Christmas was right around the corner and he still didn’t have anything for Melissa McCall because she was perfect._

But he ran with wolves. This was something to be expected. It’d happened before. Heck, it would probably happen again before next Christmas, too! The Nogitsune and Gerard and Monroe (who they had finally caught thanks to some hunters; sure, she could get away with murder, but she couldn’t get away with tax evasion). He’d faced worse than some rogue hunter who had made a big mistake.

He just needed to wait things out like he always did, and then things would be okay.

Taking a deep breath, he looked his attacker in the eye and waited patiently, smiling behind the gag. Their eyes narrowed even more. “Really? What do you have to be so smug about, huh?” They grabbed his hair and yanked him closer, stinking breath getting in his face. Seriously, had they even brushed their teeth that morning? “What if I cut that lovely smile of yours off your face, huh? What’ll you do then?” By that point, they were close. Too close.

So, of course, Stiles headbutted them.

They went stumbling back with a grunt and he couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked face they gave him. Sure, it came out oddly wheezy and it made his ribs ache—he hadn’t gone without a fight, which ended when he had something stabbed into his neck after his ribs smashed into Roscoe’s side mirror. But was it worth it?

Abso-freaking-lutely.

Growling, the human turned and shouted, “Can someone come deal with this little—argh!” They wiped the blood from their mouth with a growl, then glared back at him. “You’re lucky we need you alive.”

_Oh, really? I think cutting someone’s smile from their face would come pretty close to killing them._ Stiles mused, although he didn’t say it. Because, obviously, the gag was still there. Honestly, it was probably helping him more than it was hindering him. At least that way, he couldn’t say anything stupid that would get him hurt.

Lydia and Derek would be so proud.

But honestly, he was starting to get pretty tired of sitting around waiting. And as this wasn’t the first time he’d been kidnapped (he had multiple instances where Derek happened to be out of town, so _Scott_ was left in charge and Scott was an _idiot_ ), he had some advantages he hadn’t had previously. And not just from the FBI, either. No, he had more than that training.

He also had Chris’.

The human growled something and stormed out, and Stiles waited for a little while, counting steps as best he could. Humming a tune under his breath, he glanced at the bindings on his arms as best he could. They weren’t tied behind his back, thankfully. They were just bound to the chair arms with rope, which meant…

_Whelp, time to pull a Shaggy and Scooby._

Kicking off the ground, he let the chair fall back and felt the flimsy wooden back snap under his weight. Really, they needed to get better chairs for captives. And did they _really_ leave his jacket on the table? (The answer was yes. Man, these guys were amatuers).

After stumbling over as quietly as possible, he pulled his Swiss knife out of his pocket and started cutting at the ropes. It didn’t take long, since one of the ones around his arms had already started to come loose. Sure, it took maybe four minutes for the whole set, but he wasn’t sure he had four minutes. The gag was less fun, and the edges of his mouth were sore, but he shrugged it off for the time being.

And they didn’t even bother to check his pockets. _Wow._

Well, he wasn’t going to be one to push his luck.

Whipping his phone out, he quickly dialled Derek’s number. _“You better give Stiles back right now, you piece of—”_

“Whoa, Derek, be nice to your boyfriend. And let’s keep this PG, ‘kay, Sweetwolf?” He heard someone snicker at the name. “Alright, now, I’m in one of the warehouses.” Glancing around, he saw one of the Pack markers on the roof and grinned. “The one on Lake and Schachter. Man, these guys are amateurs.”

_“Alright, we’re on our way. We’ll be there in about two minutes.”_ Looking around, Stiles rolled his shoulders and started walking for the exit, snagging a stray gun off a table. Seriously, how stupid were these guys? Could they even be called hunters?  
(The answer to _that_ was no, apparently. Later, he’d find out these guys were just your everyday kidnapper who thought that the Sheriff’s son would be an easy target. Obviously, they were wrong.)

Once he was outside, he slumped behind one of the boxes and waited. Within moments, his beloved boyfriend and beloved father and less-beloved best friend came sprinting up. “Hey! You came!” Holding out his arms, he let Derek scoop him up like he always would. “Oh, ‘checking me over for injuries’?” He teased, and Derek made an expression. Turning, he started carrying Stiles back to the Camaro, Noah and Scott flanking either side of them and ready to fight if need be.

“Let’s just get you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m ending this here because I want to. Also, I feel better because I actually curled up and got some sleep after planning out all five of the fics that are going up today. Still ignoring my other fics that are currently on hiatus for the sake of my sanity. Whoop whoop, I’m a procrastinating discount store with regular pricing, what can I say.   
> G2—Bound and Gagged


End file.
